Page 96 of Wicked Games

“I should go see him.” She sets her glass down.

I don’t have to ask who she means. “Violet, no. You can’t. You can’t tell Seth any of this. Rowan’s going to be watching him. The more upset he is, the more Rowan is going to believe Seth’s listening to his threats. If you go talk to him, or even just text him and tell him what we think is going on, he’ll start acting normally, and Rowan will know we know. That would be dangerous for everyone.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but I say over her, “It’s not just me. It’s you. It’s Walker. It’s his parents. How far do you think Rowan would go to keep this covered up? He showed Seth his cards at the cemetery. We have to stall until we have better ones.”

“Right. You’re right. I’m sorry. I just can’t stand the thought of him—” She starts crying.

I hug her, knowing exactly how she feels. Thinking of him drinking until he passes out, like I saw him do in Lakehaven Falls. He could kill himself before Detective LaSalle can find enough evidence to arrest Rowan, but I believe, with all my heart, that Rowan’s watching Seth’s house and if we contact him, Rowan will know.

“We have to sell this, Violet. We have to. It’s the only way.”

She steps out of my embrace. “I know you’re right. But this is Theo and Brooke all over again.”

I say the only thing I can. “No, it’s not. That was real. This isn’t. Okay? If I believed him, that would be something else, but it’s us against Rowan.” I pause. “Was Seth angry at the cemetery? Did he say anything to you?”

“Yeah. He told me to get out of his face. I don’t know what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything, and that’s good. Pretend you’re mad at him for being a jerk. Now I want you to go home and call Detective LaSalle. Tell him everything that happened. There’s no way we can make sure Seth’s okay. We’ll just have to hope that he doesn’t do anything stupid. He didn’t before, okay?” I’m not foolish enough to believe that I mean more to him than Theo and a seven-year marriage.

“Because I was there,” she points out, and I wince.

“Yeah, you were. And you still are, he just doesn’t know it. Be careful leaving here. No one can know that we’re still in touch.”

She nods, drains her glass, and slips out the door.

There’s nothing I can do except change out of my dress, pour more wine, and call Bill. I give him a brief rundown of what happened at the cemetery and tell him that he should stay home and keep his doors locked until he hears from someone. I doubt at this point Rowan would go after him, but if he thinks Hattie told me something, it’s just as likely he thinks Hattie told her husband things too.

Seth’s clothes are scattered around my room, and I leave them where they are. Pushing back tears and fear, I’m at a loss, and I do the one thing that has gotten me through.

I sit down and write.

I don’t hear from anyone for two days, and by the time my phone chimes, my nerves are shot. Thinking of how Seth’s been twists my heart, and I’m queasy and agitated.

“Hello?” I answer tentatively. It could be anyone calling. Seth’s mother. Rowan. One of the security guards outside needing the bathroom, though I don’t know where they’ve been going all this time.

“Mrs. McKay,” a raspy voice says. “This is Detective LaSalle with the Ashfield Police Department.”

“Detective,” I reply, my heart thrumming. “Did Violet tell you what happened at Brooke’s funeral?”

“Yes, she did, and I’d like you to come down to the police station, if you can. I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”

“Right now?”

“At your earliest convenience. Though, I’m sure you’d like to get this sorted as soon as possible.”

“Yes, I do. I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“Thank you. Ask for me at the front desk. You’ll be brought back.”

“Thanks.”

My hands tremble as I change out of my shorts and tank top and into a dress. I’ve been taking showers and trying to eat. I didn’t think this would go on indefinitely. No, that’s not true. I’d hoped this wouldn’t go on indefinitely, that Detective LaSalle and Detective Mueller would get off their asses and actually do something, and I’ve tried not to let myself go. Perhaps that’s paid off, as all I have to do before leaving is put on some lipgloss and brush my hair.

The traffic on a Thursday afternoon is light since everyone is already at work, but I don’t live in Ashfield, only a suburb, and my twenty minutes turns into forty-five. I’m frustrated and scared by the time I make it to the police station and find a parking space on the street. The receptionist calls someone, murmuring into the receiver, and a moment later a police officer wearing a black uniform leads me to a conference room.

Violet and Bill are already there, and she stands from her seat at the table and rushes to me.

She doesn’t look good, with deep purple shadows under her eyes, her hair in tangles, and her clothes wrinkled. I was nervous she’d try to contact Seth even when I told her not to, but maybe Detective LaSalle told her the same thing. She wouldn’t look like this if she knew how Seth was, good or bad, and I try to relax.